


Create Your Own Future

by OldGreggGroupie



Category: K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Communication with the spiritual world, Drug Use, Entered in SBB 2015, Ghost!Key, Happy Ending, It's major character death but in a cute way, M/M, Mentions of bullying and abusive relationships, Relationships with ghosts, Suicide/self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 03:56:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4506783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldGreggGroupie/pseuds/OldGreggGroupie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taemin had always believed in ghosts, but never seemed to figure out Kibum was haunting him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Create Your Own Future

**The Meeting**

On the morning he found the card, Lee Taemin was too busy vomiting into the storm drain to realize the cherry trees had blossomed overnight. This morning was Taemin's favorite each year. The trees bloomed gradually at first, a few white flowers among the green leaves. Then, on that certain morning, each and every tree in vicinity had flushed a bright pink, and the color had the potential of almost being overwhelming. This had proven true to Taemin, who was now walking down a fortunately mellow street in Seoul, praying that the pounding in his head would soon diminish, and his parents wouldn't catch him with such a nasty hangover. It had seemed as if it would be an entirely harmless Friday night out with his friends, but Lee Jinki, the oldest of the group who had just recently gone to university, had already planned a night out of drinking. Taemin, not considering himself one to disrespect his elder, had no choice but to follow even though he was still at the tender age of seventeen. Taemin went out drinking for the first time that night, and woke up in an apartment he didn't know, already regretting it. He knew, from that point on, it would be a long day.

The worst thing about the hangover was the fact that Taemin had to do his own laundry. Although it was just a small precaution to make sure his parents didn’t find out he had been out all night, he made sure to follow through tediously. In fact, Taemin spent a good half an hour in the shower just trying to sweat anything out of his system before he went back to get the remaining alcohol out of his clothes. His graphic tee seemed fine to wash with normal clothes, and he assumed his trousers would prove the same. This speculation was quickly diminished when Taemin saw the crisp business card float up amid the washing machine’s suds.

The Woman had introduced herself the night before not with a “hello” but with a rather forceful grab of Taemin’s ass. When Taemin jumped and gave her a look of dissatisfaction, she merely let out a cackle. “Oh-ho, she’s a jealous one, isn’t she?” The Woman paused for a short moment, before grinning widely. “No, no. _He_ is.” She spoke in English, but in a dialect Taemin was sure he had only heard a few times, if any. What she was doing in an apartment in Seoul he had no idea.

Taemin found himself smiling entirely in spite of himself at the card. “Irene Adler,” he rolled over his tongue. “Travelling psychic medium.” He was only skilled enough for conversational English, but he found himself not having a hard time at all recalling or even understanding what the Woman wrote, despite his non-proficiency in English. Something came over him, and he was able to process every word on the card without needing external help.

Despite his friends promptings as soon as they were told the story, Taemin absolutely refused to go to a person he’d only met when drunk, and who wouldn’t even give their real name. Though Conan Doyle’s Irene Adler was from New Jersey, and for all Taemin knew it could have been a happy accident of a real name, Taemin still insisted on referring to her in his mind and out loud as only The Woman.

Taemin was not a very strong person, whether it be physical or mental. He was still fairly frail and much too easily persuaded. It was the later factor of Taemin’s personality that saw him to the street with the cherry blossoms.

Only when they stepped through the doors of a rather posh-looking hotel did Taemin realize his hangover was bad enough that he didn’t realize this was an entirely different street than the one he woke up on, and Irene didn’t seem to be the host of the party after all.

It wasn’t that Taemin didn’t believe in ghosts, of course. He was raised Catholic, and was firmly taught that the ghost that haunted their apartment until he was six was the soul of a family member, or something of the like, that had been caught in purgatory. He had been entirely fine with this fact, not questioning it once. Taemin’s only reluctance was to trust a person who even the great Sherlock Holmes could only ever describe as _the_ woman, yet he could admit that a large part of this reluctance also stemmed from the fact that the woman used a fake name. Irene Adler was the most famous woman from any _Sherlock Holmes_ story, and not a name Taemin would have personally chosen to be inconspicuous.

Despite any grievances he might have aired, Taemin could feel his heart speed up as they approached the hotel room written on the back of the card. When the door opened, Taemin was the first to step forward, and The Woman smiled, dark red lips parting gently to show perfectly straightened and slightly yellowed teeth.

The coffee tables four sides were inhabited by Irene, Lee Jinki, Kim Jonghyun, and Choi Minho. Taemin considered the later three his closest and dearest friends, while he considered the foremost his most ill-trusted stranger. Taemin was forced to sit off to the side, with only a pad of paper and a pen, being assigned to be the transcriber for his own validation. The rest of them were to simply operate the ouija board, serving as merely the means of communication the spirit would come through.

“Everybody,” The Woman said, her voice calm. “We need to close our eyes, so none of us can read the letters and influence where the planchette, the reader on the board, lands. Okay?” When everyone around the table had closed their eyes, she took in a deep breath. “Hello. Is there a presence with us?”

The planchette shot forcefully to the “YES” at the top right corner of the board.

The Woman laughed gently. “You’re very fast. May we ask your name?”

Taemin leaned forward, writing down every letter as it appeared. Taemin wrote at the pace the letters came, finally getting “K-I-M-K-I-B-U-M” on the paper after about thirty seconds.

“Kim Kibum? You’re Korean?” When Taemin got an affirmative answer, he sighed. “Why are you so slow?”

There was a hesitation in the board this time, but it soon continued. “I am sory I was planing on going slow 4 u 2 understand beter”. There was a noticeable pause in between double letters, but Taemin had yet to pick up on this.

“Do you know my name, Kibum?”

“What have u forgot it”, the board replied, quite sassily in Taemin’s opinion, “or r u just trying to prove I am real”.

Taemin found himself smiling. “I’m leaning towards the latter.”

“Ur”, the board started, before spelling out “stop”.

“What? Stop what?”

“I do not like the way u write plz spell it on the paper and my name is Kibum not board”, the board, _Kibum,_ replied. “Fix it on ur paper”.

Taemin blinked in disbelief. “Spell out my name, first, and then I’ll change it.” When Kibum quickly spelled his full name without fail, Taemin sighed, starting to grammar edit. “I still have trouble believing you.”

“Why?” Kibum spelled, and Taemin wrote. “Your name is Lee Taemin, you were born on 1993/7/18, and you’re wearing that one red pair of underwear you cleaned up with that one time when you were out of tissues and now you feel guilty about wearing. Oh, God. Do I sound creepy? I promise I don’t watch.”

Taemin’s mouth hung agape for a few moments before he just shook his head. “ _What?_ I can’t do this.”

“No!” The planchette once again shot so forcefully it frightened the people around the table. “Please don’t leave, I want to talk to you. I’ve been waiting so long for you to do something like this, so you can’t just give up now!”

There was a moment of silence on Taemin’s part, before he let out a loud sigh. “How long have you been waiting?”

“You’re seventeen now, aren’t you? I met you the night your grandmother on your mother’s side died, which was the day before your sixth international birthday, if I’m correct. So only about ten or eleven years now. I’ve lost track.”

“Only?” Taemin sounded shocked, but quickly changed his question, remembering a more pressing issue. “And, what did you mean, my grandmother?”

“Do you not remember? I suppose not, you were so young. I killed myself that night, and while your mother was saying her goodbyes, your dad was left in charge of you. You saw that my mom was crying, so you tugged on his hand, and got him to go buy flowers. Soon after you wiggled out of his grasp and instead went to go talk to my parents, my mother especially, who was crying. I became fond after that, I suppose.”

“You killed yourself? May… Are you comfortable telling why?”

“I’m, or, was, gay. I’m not really sure how to put it any more, honestly. I liked men when I was alive, and if I hadn’t seen you grow up I’d probably think you were pretty cute.” Kibum paused the planchette for a moment. “Aww, are you getting red? That’s adorable.”

Taemin coughed. “Get on with the story,” he commanded gently, turning his head away from the board as if that was what would see his blush. It took a good thirty seconds of Kibum’s silence for Taemin to remember that he actually had to _watch_ Kibum spell out the words to understand.

“Welcome back, genius.”

“Shut it.” Taemin smirked. He had started to actually work out some of Kibum’s habits in the board, and was able to transcribe with slightly more ease.

“Where was I? When I was twelve, I moved to America for a year to study English, and it was honestly the best time of my life. I was free, liberated from every worry I had ever experienced. There were more gay people there than I figured the entire population to be, and they all welcomed me. It was beautiful, everyone free and open like that. Of course, when I got back to Korea, the culture shock from just a year was tremendous. My personality had to go back into hiding, and I had to keep so many secrets. I never liked secrets, so when all of my friends were getting girlfriends, I stayed single. Finally, with enough prodding from my friends, I got a boyfriend at age sixteen. We kept it secret for about a year, but rumors started spreading when someone caught us kissing after school one day. He dispelled these rumors by beating me, in front of almost the entire school. He used disgusting words, words I’m not even sure you know the meaning of in English; the least offensive of those probably being: ‘Stop following me like a bitch in heat”, if that gives you any perspective of how terrible his words were. He had just been screaming at me when he said that, but then he started hitting me, telling me that I was disgusting, and that I deserved to die. He punctuated that last one with a kick because I was already on the ground, and that was was the first time I was landed in the hospital within the week. That was Monday, and I killed myself on Saturday. Are you okay, Taeminnie?”

Taemin was almost in a daze as he transcribed Kibum’s story. When he saw Kibum spell out his name, he nodded a little. “Yeah, I’m… fine. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“If not, my spirit wouldn’t have met you.” Taemin found himself smiling gently, and he _almost_ blushed. “I suppose I’m just sweet talking you now. Let’s see, where was I? The broken rib, right. That was his way to break up with me, it seemed. He had realized he had his fill with me by the time we had gotten caught, so he simply had to regain his masculinity in front of the school. Through that week, his friends said the same or even dirtier words to me, and told me to kill myself. Back in America, I had this friend Amber, and she used to say that I was a ‘delicate flower’, and I had to to agree. I was a very emotionally fragile person, and ended up taking my own life that Saturday.

“I attempted to do so by slitting my wrists, so when my parents found me, they tried to rush me to the hospital in hopes I could remain alive. When I killed myself, I thought that would be it, that it would be over. As you can see, it hasn’t been. You know, ghost and stuff. I’m just trying to lighten the mood, Taeminnie, you look upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Taemin defended stubbornly. “This is just emotional.”

“I know, I know. But so far, I’m just a weird guy who’s been following you for most of your life. You don’t even know how I met you.”

“You said you killed yourself the day we were at the hospital. You probably just found me. I was a cute kid.”

“You were an _adorable_ kid, but that’s not why I started following you. You were five, that would have just been creepy. No, like I said, the suicide didn’t end my conscience, it just ended my heartbeat. I died during the ambulance ride, but my spirit clung to my body. When I got to the hospital, I left my body, and found my parents in the waiting room of the emergency room. There… I’m sorry, I need a moment, actually.” There was a long silence from Kibum’s part, and Taemin couldn’t quite figure out what was happening. “Sorry, sorry. Did you know ghosts can cry? Maybe I’m just emotional. I’m off topic, sorry. My mother was in my father’s arms, sobbing so loud she was almost having to be restrained by the hospital staff for causing a disturbance. Taemin, you and your father were in the gift shop. And… God, I can hardly say it. You came out of the gift shop and went up to my mother, and tapped her on the leg.

“You said something like, _‘My daddy and I are waiting for my mommy to come out, but…’_ And then you pulled this flower, this gorgeous white lily, out from behind your little back, and you just had the biggest, brightest smile on your face, and… you said to her, _‘we want to give you this flower, because you’re sad. We picked the prettiest flower in the shop, so please, don’t cry. Everything is going to be okay, so you shouldn’t cry.’_ You had the most innocent expression on your face and it was truthfully heart wrenching. At that point, my mother, father, and I all broke down. My mother took you in her arms, not being able to stop herself, while my father explained to your’s, with tears in his eyes, that I had taken my own life, and they were waiting for the doctors to come save me. When you were finally pried away from my hysterical mother’s arms, your father wished my parents the best, and took you away. The doctor came out just a few moments after to announce that they could do no more, and I had passed away.

“It was then I vowed to protect you, Taeminnie, because you were such a sweet and innocent soul, and I just wanted to make sure you would always be safe. And I have, I personally think. I’ve never let you get hurt like I was, you’ve always been happy, and you’ve never even considered suicide. I’ve done my job well.”

“You have,” Taemin interrupted, his voice sounding as if he was holding back tears. “You’ve done a really good job, Kibum.”

“Are you getting emotional?”

“No,” Taemin insisted, shaking his head wildly.

“I’m laughing right now, Taeminnie. You’re adorable. Just really quickly, do you have a Bible on you?”

“Why would I have a Bible?”

“You’re Catholic, aren’t you?”

“I’m not _that_ Catholic,” he said with a wrinkle of his nose.

“Fine, fine. Then Google it. Songs of Solomon 3:4. Got it?” Kibum waited for a moment. “Don’t read it yet, there’s a backstory. I’m not actually sure if this is a common thing, but my family has always pressed flowers in books. We’d just open a large book to any page that didn’t already have a flower in it, arrange it so it would look pretty, and then press it. The big family Bible we had in the living room hosted most of the flowers that my mother held to have a precious memory, and that was the book she pressed the flower you gave her. Opening to just a random page in the Bible could give you any good of bad verse, and the random page my mother opened it to contained that verse. She pressed the flower there without noticing it, but it’s kind of stuck with me. Read it out loud, for them.”

Taemin had a slightly confused look on his face, before he read aloud what was on his phone screen. Taemin had started to read in Korean but he was quickly cut off by a loud yelp coming from his own mouth.. “What the hell, Kibum?” He angrily picked up the planchette, which had flown off of the board and straight into his chest. “ _What_?”

“Taemin, I don’t think it’s a good idea to get angry with the spirit,” the Woman warned, her eyes opening slowly, only to find every other person around the table to be simply gawking at the board.

Jinki, Jonghyun and Minho’s eyes had opened violently when the planchette was torn from their hands, frankly too scared to remember they were required to keep them closed. The three men around the table each wore incredibly shocked faces, .

Quite like the planchette had flown off to hit him, as soon as Taemin placed it back on the board, it flew to start spelling. “Don’t read it in Korean, read it in English.”

“I didn’t think you were able to do that,” The Woman said, absolutely mystified. “You know, just speak through one person. I thought it needed to be a group for it to work…”

“Well, you obviously thought wrong.”

Taemin laughed a little at that. “Kibum’s sassy,” he explained gently, before pulling up the verse. “Seriously, read all he’s said.” Taemin pushed the note pad towards her, before taking a deep breath. “The verse says: ‘Scarcely had I passed them when I found the one my heart loves. I held him and would not let him go.’ What does that mean?”

“Taeminnie,” Jinki said quietly, having read the note as well. “Do you really not understand?”

“Understand what?”

The hyungs were silent for a moment before they finally turned to The Woman. “We’re willing to debate a price,” said Jinki, taking his place and speaking up. “How much do you want for the ouija board?”

The Woman, looking overwhelmed, shook her head. “I think he needs it more than I do,” she replied slowly. “You guys can take it for free, it’s not like that one’s my only board.”

“What?” Taemin frowned. “I’ve just finished talking to him, why do I need to keep it?”

The group was prepared to make up excuses, but Kibum spoke first, though he was still moving the planchette through Taemin’s fingers. “Because I’m not going to give you up, Taeminnie. I’m going to keep protecting you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. So wouldn’t you at least like to have someone to talk to?”

Even if Taemin wasn’t quite sure he still agreed, and soon enough he was sitting on his bedroom floor, fingers resting lightly on the small heart shaped piece of wood. “So,” he said gently, and Kibum started talking.

**The Planetarium**

Kibum talked much easier than Taemin did, just rambling on. Kibum’s jealousy was the only problem the couple had, in all honesty. When Taemin was not actively talking, and still had his hands off of the planchette, Kibum took the opportunity to be the mischievous spirit he knew he was capable of being. Because of this, however, Taemin’s reflexes started to improve sevenfold. Without even looking, he could catch anything Kibum threw at him to get his attention.

It went on like this for months before Taemin finally sat Kibum down to talk about it. “I have a solution that might cumulate in less injury, and no more broken reader thingies.”

“It’s called a planchette.”

“I don’t care.” Taemin smiled a little, looking at the planchette under his fingers. Kibum had already broken two, and the current one didn’t even have glass in it. He got a discount at the second-hand spiritual shop for it, but he chose it not for its price but for what was proudly written on the the black wood in white paint.

“Yeah, yeah. Get on with this solution.”

Taemin took a deep breath. “So, I was talking to The Woman that introduced us about this, right? And she said that people are susceptible to things like possession once their conscience has been weakened, and… she said a good way to do that was through drugs and alcohol.”

There was a long silence from the board, before Kibum spelled out a firm, quick message. “You’re an idiot.”

“I’m going to try it, Kibum.”

“Why? Do you want to ruin your life just because you’re too lazy to read?”

“Kibum, I can’t constantly talk to you! If we go about it this way once a week, we can have a long conversation and then you can shut up.”

“But I don’t want to shut up.”

“Kibum.”

“What? I’m not going to agree to this, no matter what. You can do it if you want, if you _want_ to ruin your life. You know, you’re just taking a chance at getting addicted, no biggie.”

“You’re nagging like my mother would, Kibum. I’m going to do this, you can’t stop me.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.” Taemin almost pouted at Kibum’s lack of a proper response. “Well, _I’m_ going to go buy drugs,” he said firmly.

“Bring a jacket,” Kibum replied quickly.

“I’m a man, Kibum, I know how to handle this.” Taemin stood up angrily, hiding the board under his mattress in case his parents came in. When Taemin finally got his money, he hesitated by the door, before grabbing a sweater, heading out. “Shut up, it’s chilly.”

He arrived at the planetarium by noon, around an hour before the next show. As inconspicuously as one could, he headed into the men’s bathroom, waiting up against the wall with a few other obvious stoners. With a frown, Taemin crossed his arms over his chest, feeling self conscious. Maybe an oversized sweater wasn’t the best outfit for a drug deal, after all. He could almost feel the stoners watching him. Did they know he was a boy? The leering glances he got made it seem like they weren’t quite sure of his gender, but didn’t seem to mind either way.

It took about thirty minutes of people going into the last bathroom stall before Taemin got his turn. He stepped shyly into the cubicle, and looked over the man. The man just tilted down his sunglasses. “Are you lost?”

“N-No,” Taemin said, shaking his head nervously. “Are you Park Jaesang?”

The man groaned, pushing the glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Did Irene send you? Damn it.” Jaesang sighed, ruffling through his bag, before pulling out what looked like a cigarette, handing it to Taemin. “You can smoke it out behind the planetarium, and probably be back in time for my show. They’re pretty trippy, stimulating when you’re high. And the perfect place to talk to your ‘ghosts’,” he said, making air quotes.

Taemin smiled gratefully, hesitating with the bag before dropping it down his sweater, much to the amusement of Jaesang. After he payed for what he assumed to be marijuana, he followed Jaesang’s directions, and headed out to where the people he had met in the bathroom were smoking. After a few moments of mental resistance, Taemin spoke up.

“May I borrow a light?” He put on an airy, feminine voice as he spoke. Taemin figured that in a group of all male, rough-looking stoners, he would be able to get a light much quicker if he was a girl, and it seemed to work when several men got out their lighters. He smiled sweetly at them, walking over and lighting on the closest one. He took small inhalations, not wanting to cough and prove he wasn’t really a girl.

Taemin smoked up against the wall, smoking until his head started to swim. In fact, he only stopped once he was absolutely positive that if he took another puff, he wouldn’t be able to walk straight. Knowing this, he finally put it out, rolling it back up in the plastic bag, and heading in. Taemin took his seat in the upper right corner, reclining his chair, and closed his eyes.

“Get out of my body,” Taemin whispered as the lights started to dim. “I want to touch you, to hold your hand.”

Taemin could feel the chill go through the the thin sweater and seemingly down to his bone.“I _told_ you to bring a jacket,” a small voice said just seconds after he shivered wildly, and Taemin’s face lit up.

“Kibum?”

“No, it’s Jesus. Seriously Taemin, who do you think it is?”

“Shut up,” Taemin whispered with a bright smile, closing his eyes. “Is this your real voice?”

“It’s the voice you associate with me.” When Taemin frowned, there was an audible puff of air, almost a sigh, coming from the direction Kibum’s voice came from. “You weren’t this excited about me when we first met, and now you’re upset you can’t actually hear my voice?”

“A little, because you haven’t touched me.”

“You don’t want me to touch you.” Kibum’s voice was serious, but Taemin still insisted. “Don’t make a sound. It’s cold.”

“Of course,” he said gently, holding his hand out. “Of course ghosts are cold Kibum, this is stuff you learn when you’re a kid.”

There was an almost annoyed sounding sigh from Kibum, before a sharp pain surfaced in Taemin’s hand. His eyes opened suddenly, and Kibum sighed, jerking his hand away. “I told you,” Kibum said gently.

Taemin was shaking, hardly able to form a proper sentence. “Touch me again,” he finally commanded, his whisper quivering.

“What? No, you’re shaking.”

“Do it,” Taemin whispered roughly, urging his arm forward. “And don’t take your hand off his time.” When Kibum’s hand touched Taemin again, it sent an electric shock through his body, but Taemin still smiled. “I can see you.” He blinked once, to make sure, and he nodded. “When you touch me, I can see you.”

For the first time that Taemin could see, Kibum shook his head. “No, you’re just high.”

“I’m not. Well, I am, but I’m not just high, I can see you.”

“Then what do I look like?”

Taemin thought for a moment. “Pretty,” he said, a content little smile on his face. “You just rolled your eyes,” he announced.

“That doesn’t count. Anyone would roll their eyes at that.”

“Fine. You’re wearing a white hanbok.”

“That’s a given too, Taeminnie. All gwisin do.”

There was a pause. “Is _that_ what you are? Huh.” Taemin looked around the planetarium, and leaned a little closer to Kibum, reaching his hand up. “No one can see me,” he whispered, his hand connecting to Kibum’s face in a gently caress, causing him to laugh. “I half expected my hand to go through your face, but it feels pretty solid, doesn’t it? It feels like… snow.” He laughed a little. “It makes sense, now that I think about it. Gwisin are trouble making ghosts, and you’d need to be pretty solid to pick things up and throw them at me, anyway.” Taemin grinned brightly, looking sweetly at Kibum. Every second they touched he could feel the icy pain creep a little farther up his arm. At the same time, each second Taemin could see Kibum managed to dull the pain and almost warm his body to the point that he could continue to narrate everything Kibum was doing. “You just closed your eyes, but you shouldn’t have. They were perfect. And then, your cheekbones.” Taemin traced his fingers over Kibum’s most prominent feature. “I’ve never seen ones this prominent on a boy, but ghosts are supposed to be all skinny. I don’t think I’ve heard of fat ghosts. You’re smiling now?” Taemin chuckled, his thumb tracing Kibum’s lips.

“You have a weird sense of humor,” Kibum mumbled, though he was still smiling.

“Sure,” Taemin said with a giggle himself. “And you have this cute little nose…” He traced up the bridge contentedly. “Your eyebrows are a little thick, but they’re fine. Does… this one have a hole in it?” Taemin let his finger linger over Kibum’s right eyebrow, but the gwisin quickly yanked himself away, removing his hand from Taemin’s and successfully making himself disappear. “Kibum? Kibum!” Taemin was whispering harshly, reaching out for the other.

“The time when we broke up wasn’t actually the first time he hit me,” Kibum replied gently, so quiet Taemin could barely hear it over Jaesang’s booming voice narrating each the astronomy show, announcing the names of each constellation as they crossed the plaster sky. “The scar was caused when he threw a hand mirror at my eye. Can we not talk about it?”

“If you touch me again,” Taemin said gently, smiling as the shiver shot up his arm, and Kibum’s face came once again into his vision. He turned his face back up to the dome, and he sighed dreamily. “Kibummie, have I ever seen the stars?”

“What?”

“I can’t ever remember looking up and seeing the stars in the sky, because I’ve never really left a city without light pollution. I’m only asking you seem like you’d remember more sentimental things like that.”

“Well, it’s not like I can see through your eyes, but… I don’t remember anything like that.”

“They’re beautiful, though.”

“They’re just a projection.”

“It doesn’t mean they’re not beautiful.”

“Very beautiful,” Kibum agreed smoothly.

Taemin turned to face Kibum, but stopped anything he was about to say as he saw the gwisin. “You’re not looking at the stars.”

“They’re not what’s beautiful.”

“If I could hit you right now, I would.” Taemin’s eyes narrowed into a glare, and he turned back up to the sky. “That’s not funny, you saw how those guys in the bathroom looked at me. One was licking his lips, I swear.”

“I’m not trying to be funny, Taemin, I’m being serious.”

“Oh.” Taemin nodded, staying silent afterwards for a good five minutes, just listening to Jaesang’s voice boom in his ears. “You know,” he said suddenly, “that I kind of love you, right?” He finally turned back to Kibum, seeing his shocked face. “I mean, I think I do.”

“You don’t,” said Kibum firmly. “You can’t fall in love with a ghost, idiot.”

“Why not? Because it’s weird, and ‘normal’ people don’t do it? Because it’s creepy, and unnatural? I’ve heard the same arguments about homosexuality, and you’ve still fallen in love with a boy.”

“Taemin, that’s-”

“Just an observation,” Taemin said, cutting him off.

“This is just a phase, Taeminnie.”

“I’ve heard that one too.”

Kibum sighed, closing his eyes. “Taemin, please. You might love me, I don’t know. The point is this is the only way you’re able to even _touch_ me. That’s going to waste a lot of your money, don’t you think? You just need to give yourself time, Taemin. People can fall out of love, and that’ll happen to you. You’ll fall out of love and fall in love with someone else.” He opened his eyes again, smiling sadly. “So look up and watch. The show’s almost over, okay? Lay back and enjoy the stars.”

Taemin looked Kibum in the eyes. “Did you just reject me?”

“I did. Because Taemin, someday you’ll love another boy, and he’s going to be wonderful, more wonderful than you think I am. Sure, you’ll remember me years from now, from time to time, but you’ll love him more. I promise.” Kibum smiled hopefully.

“Are… you going to leave now?”

“Why would I do that?”

“I just confessed to you.”

Kibum laughed a little. “Taemin, I don’t mind. It’s a shame you fell in love with me, of all people, and it’s even more of a shame that I can’t act on it. But… I’m glad to be the one you fell in love with. I’m honored.”

“So… you’re not going to get creeped out by me, or anything?”

“Taemin, I’ve been by your side for almost thirteen years now. I think that I would have already been weirded out. You’re pretty strange.”

Taemin let out a grunt at Kibum’s attempt to refocus the conversation. “That’s not funny either!”

“That one was pretty funny,” Kibum said with a smile, turning his head back to the starshow.

**The Grave**

Taemin’s dreams had always been vivid yet rarely intricate. Since puberty, his dreams had been haunted by the form of a lone male. They had never spoken, but Taemin had memorized his striking features. It wasn’t until the evening at the planetarium that Taemin realized this person was in fact Kibum. He had slowly fallen in love with this man in his dream. In the fresh and exciting atmosphere sparked by seeing Kibum, he confessed, only to be shot down by his dream guy.

The night he got back from the rejection, he was reluctant to go to sleep and face Kibum once more. However, when exhaustion took over, he had no choice. Taemin dreamt of Kibum’s arms, warm and fleshy, wrapped around him. Kibum sang a sweet lullaby as Taemin started to cry.

Taemin waited a good three months, but the dream never repeated. One Sunday after the mass his parents still made him attend, he locked his bedroom door and got out the board. “Good morning, Kibum.”

“You know it’s not necessary to tell me you’re going to the planetarium, right? I know where you are, you’re always there.”

“Well don’t you look stupid, because I’m not going.”

“What? Taemin, we had an agreement! You’re supposed to talk to me. I mean I guess you’re going to have to bring the board, but it’s not really smiled upon in most civilized places.”

“Yeah, and especially not here, so you’re just not going to talk back for today. Bye.” Taemin took the planchette from the board before Kibum could respond, even though he could feel the chill on his fingers as Kibum tried to take it back. “Stop it,” he warned, before packing up the board.

Taemin could feel the constant chilling presence on his hand all the way to Daegu, and he felt it intensify step by step as he went up the hill. Finally, making sure they were far enough away for anyone to see, Taemin forcibly took his hand away from Kibum’s, turning to where he figured Kibum was. “I’m _going,_ and in fact, I’m having a picnic.” He held up the basket, before turning back up the hill.

What Taemin presumed was Kibum’s fist holding his shirt and pulling with all of his might made the trek up the hill much harder. By the time he had crested the hill, he was panting gasping deep breaths into his lungs and convincing himself his legs would soon give out. “Well,” he panted, shaking his head. “The Kim family graveyard.” He raised his eyebrows a little, before sitting on the ground, catching his breath. “Where are you buried, Kibum? I saw the plot number online, but it’s too confusing. Did you ever see? Leave me alone and see your family?”

Taemin smiled as he felt the cold engulf his hand again, and pulled him up gently. “Have you always been able to touch me like this, or have you resisted,” Taemin wondered out loud as he started to walk, Kibum pulling him. When they finally stopped, Taemin smiled fondly, getting out the blanket and spreading it out on the green grass in front of the grave. “Kim Kibum, born 1976/9/23. You’d be getting pretty old now, wouldn’t you?” Taemin sighed a little. “And I mean I’m pretty good at math, so my expert calculations say that you’d be at least a thousand years old.” He smiled, patting the ground next to him. “And you’d be all gross and old. But when I saw your ghost, you looked like you did in your yearbook photo, better, even. I googled your yearbook,” he explained. opening the basket again. “Which I didn’t know you could do, but I suppose they even want old folks like you to be documented.” Taemin laughed gently.

Without another word, he got the lilies and a bottle of water out, smiling appreciatively. He poured the water gently into the somewhat shallow vase attached to the gravestone, and then opened the bouquet. “This was the kind I gave your mom, right?” Taemin scooted forward a little and started placing the lilies in the metallic vase. “I couldn’t find any fake white ones, so they had to be real. I’m sorry,” he said gently, pulling his phone out to take a picture, first of the carvings of Kibum’s information into the stone, then of the flowers, and then of everything together.

“Kibum… can I have a little time alone? I can feel you here, you know. Go talk to your relatives, go tell them about how I took you away from them. I just want to sit here for a minute.” Taemin sat absolutely still until he could no longer feel the cool presence of Kibum, and even then he only shifted to tuck his legs up under his chin. After a few minutes, Taemin reached out to run his fingers over the carvings in the stone, looking completely mellow. He tilted his head to the side slightly, tracing the name was now filled the pages of his diary, whether he was actively writing about Kibum or just doodling his name in the margins.

“Did you know,” he mumbled, so used to talking to Kibum he was content with just talking to himself, “that a human body can take eight to twelve years to decompose, without a coffin? I googled that too. I’ve actually gotten good at sneaking around. I used to just think I was just one of those people who was always cold, but now I can realize when Kibum’s watching over my shoulder or not. That’s when I find all this stuff. His yearbook, his grave… it’s all online. I didn’t think I’d be able to find the exact number of years it would take to decompose, but there it was, sure enough.” Taemin nodded to himself. “So what, it’s been twelve, thirteen years, and Kibum’s probably in a coffin, huh? That means his body’s still down there… God, I think I’m going to cry.” Taemin hid his face, as he was sure, as protective of him as Kibum was, he would be watching. “I don’t fear death,” Taemin continued, barely audible from the muffle his arms and legs were providing. “I just can’t think of Kibum like that, rotting in the ground. I’m sick,” he spit, tilting his head back.

“I just can’t imagine him like that, his pretty face all swollen and his eyes- damn it!” he snapped, effectively cutting himself off from speaking any more of the horrors he was imagining. It physically pained him, wrenched terribly at his chest. Taemin had never seen a corpse before, but every time he closed his eyes, there was nothing he could imagine more vividly than Kibum’s precious visage decomposing rapidly.

“I hate you, Kibum,” Taemin almost growled, putting his legs down as he slouched. “I’d kill you if you weren’t dead,” he huffed, rubbing at his eyes. Taemin shifted so that he was laying down, straight above what he presumed was Kibum’s casket, right over his body. “This is proof of what he said,” Taemin said quietly as he looked at the daytime sky,“in the planetarium. I can’t be with him. He can’t touch me, I can’t see him. His body is _rotting_ under me, while I’m six feet up.” Taemin closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I can’t love him,” Taemin said firmly, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself. “So stop, right now. Lee Taemin, you have to stop loving Kim Kibum.”

There was a long pause. “Kibummie? You can come back now.” Taemin took slow, even breaths until Kibum’s presence came back to him. “It didn’t work, if you’re curious.” Taemin sighed, but started to smile as he felt a cold touch start to wipe a tear away. “Not yet,” Taemin said with a laugh, shaking his head. “I want you to promise me something, Kibum.” Taemin shuffled to sit up again, running a hand through his hair. “You have to promise me that I’m going to find a way to handle all of this.” He smiled innocently as he spoke carefully scripted words, sticking his pinky out. “Deal?” Taemin laughed a little as he felt a cold presence curl around his pinky, and he just shook his head a little. “I’m holding you to it,” he hummed gently, before he sighed. “There’s one more thing in the basket, and then we can get a train home. I know, it’s not much of a visit, and it’s not a happy one, but it needed to be done.”

Taemin got out a pencil from the basket, and started to write on the stone. He could hardly see the graphite on the dark gray stone, but he kept writing, determined. He had checked the forecast for Daegu, and he made up his mind when he saw the predicted rain. Taemin only hoped it would wash off before nobody noticed. The pencil markings would become gradually unreadable as rain after rain washed them, and would eventually become completely effaced. It was simply a message to Kibum, and to no one else’s eyes. Taemin had never heard the lullaby before Kibum sang it in his dream, but he once again began to transcribe Kibum’s beautiful words:

> _I’ll be your song_   
>  _I’ll become quiet music_   
>  _So I can wipe away all your painful tears_   
>  _I’ll be your breath that you can comfortably breathe_   
>  _If only I can take a step to you_   
>  _If anything remains at all_   
>  _If only we can start again_   
>  _It’s not time yet, it’s not time to end_   
>  _I’m calling out your name_   
>  _Ringing it throughout the night sky_   
>  _With a voice that only you can hear, I’ll quietly call out_   
>  _There are so many things I want to say_   
>  _A lot of time passed_   
>  _But I missed you, I’ll smile and say hello_

“There,” Taemin said quietly, finally standing. “I’m ready.” The cold was barely there as they walked down the hill, as if Kibum was barely touching him. It was the same on the train to Seoul, and all the way there, he was frankly terrified. Had he gone too far? Was Kibum upset with him?

Taemin almost tore the board out of the box when he got home, and he hurriedly put the planchette on. “Look, Kibum, I’m really sorry, but no one will even be able to see the lyrics, so-” Taemin stopped suddenly as the planchette started moving.

“You cried.”

Taemin paused for a moment. “Yeah… I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing. What are you even sorry for?”

“Crying?”

“Why?” After a silence from Taemin, Kibum continued. “If you don’t know what you’re sorry for, don’t be sorry. I’m just stunned, and that’s to say the least.”

“What? Stunned, why?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry unless you could see blood visibly pouring from a wound on your person, and that’s only because you’re afraid of blood.”

Taemin rolled his eyes a little. “I just don’t cry a lot, hyung.”

“Exactly. You don’t cry unless you’re hurt, which is why I was stunned to see you cry there.”

Taemin thought for a moment. “But… I was hurt, hyung. Sure, I might not have been spewing blood or whatever, but I was hurt.”

“What?” The planchette shot violently around the letters. “What happened? Did someone touch you? I’ll fucking kill them!”

“Kibum!” Taemin’s eyes went wide. “Don’t use that kind of language.”

“Fine. I’ll fucking _haunt_ them.”

Taemin looked entirely unamused. “That wasn’t the word I was talking about, and you know it.” He paused for a moment, pondering. “And even if it was, think about it. You’re haunting me, and I’m having a pretty good time. Haunting might not be the way to go for you to torture someone, Kibum.”

“So there was someone? Who? Who hurt you?”

Because Kibum seemed to only be paying attention to what he wanted to hear, Taemin figured it best to get it out in the open. “You did, emotionally, at the planetarium.” When the spirit didn’t reply, Taemin continued on. “I just kind of remembered why you had to reject me, that you’re dead, you know. I’m alive. We shouldn’t even be able to talk, so I shouldn’t be able to fall in love with you. It’s better for my mental health if I don’t love you.”

“Then why did you cry? That sounds like a completely sound observation, why would it make you cry?”

“Because I do! Because, no matter what, I still love you.” Taemin smiled sadly. “I really, really love you, Kibum, and thinking of the person you love’s corpse isn’t the happiest thing in the world any way.” He laughed humorously. “I don’t know, it really just reminded me why the love is unrequited, I guess, because I knew that I was going to write on your tombstone, and yet none of it is true. I can’t be your song, I can’t be your breath. I’m just kind of that kid you got fond of when I was five, right? You’re basically my babysitter, and I’m the child who fell in misguided love with you. You can do all of that for me, you can be my breath, but I can never comfort you, and that’s what love is, isn’t it? It’s a give and take, and I can only take. There have been so many emotions boiling up around it, around you, already, and when I realized all of this the rubber band just kind of snapped. You don’t feel the same way, and yet, you’re still so nice to me, to sing to me in my sleep, to have always been here. I didn’t have a chance but to fall in love.”

There was a long silence from Kibum, before the final message of the night came. “I understand. But it’s getting late, Taeminnie, it’s time for bed. Make sure to bundle up, it’s starting to get chilly.” When Kibum said nothing else, Taemin just nodded, packing up the board.

That night, Taemin dreamt of Kibum taking his last breaths as Taemin sung of becoming the air for Kibum to comfortably breathe.

**The End**

Taemin had always been a very rash person. Kibum had not been in his time spent in a mortal body, and in fact suffered through the twelve years with Taemin pondering how and even _why_ Taemin made the decisions he did.

On that particular morning, Taemin was showering before school, as he usually did. True to one of his earliest words to Taemin, Kibum had never ‘watched’ Taemin before, and was therefore left completely and utterly bored. Kibum started writing on the mirror only seconds before Taemin got out. To think that it could have all been avoided if Taemin hadn’t taken that extra few minutes past his timer was honestly frightening.

Kibum should have known Taemin didn’t turn the water off until he stepped out of the shower. As it turned out, the water stopped as soon as the last syllable of 사랑해 was written in the mist on the mirror.

사랑해. _Saranghae._ Kibum… loved him.

Taemin was silent for a few moments, before it was slowly smudged out. Taemin almost started crying again at how absolutely overwhelmed he was, but even more so at the chill that went through almost his entire body, something he never felt when he wasn’t high. It was much too intense, and Taemin felt himself quivering. It felt like he had just had ice water dumped over him in the steamy room, making every single hair on his body stand on end, and making his muscles tense as if he were about to run away in fear. The only thing stopping him from doing so was a sharp throb of his heart, like Kibum’s icy hand had reached into the very cavity of his chest and squeezed.

Moments like this one are so often romanticized in dramas that Taemin had no idea what he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t the horrible stabbing pain in his chest. Was this how it felt to Kibum, that day in the planetarium?

There were countless songs and stories of worlds where people live in black and white until they meet their soulmate, and when they touch, something clicks into place and there's an explosion of color. It is through your soul mate that you can finally stop seeing the world in black and white, and Taemin knew that. He also knew that this was a complete lie, as he convinced his soul and Kibum’s soul belonged together, and he had always seen in color.

However, as soon as he saw those syllables on the mirror, Taemin understood what he had heard all of his life. As compared to that moment, his world was black and white, a cruel gray prison. The entire bathroom shone brilliantly, and he could see the entire spectrum. Maybe it wasn’t a complete lie, and he just misunderstood. Taemin had seen the world entirely differently until that moment, and then at once, he knew.

With a shake of his head, Taemin ran out of the room, not being able to handle it. He went through the rest of his routine painfully slowly, taking an excruciatingly long thirty minutes before he finally got the board out.

When Taemin saw Kibum was waiting for Taemin’s explanation and not moving the planchette, Taemin could only speak in a meek voice. “I was naked. You confessed while I was _naked._ If I was naked when I confessed, wouldn’t you have avoided it?”

“Taemin, firstly, I didn’t even mean to confess. Secondly, we were in public when you confessed, so I hope you wouldn’t be nude. I hope you’re still at least that rational.” Taemin bit his lip. “Oh, don’t make that face at me. You’re not allowed to pout.”

“You didn’t mean to?”

“Of course not, Taemin. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever known. You’ve kept your pure heart since the day I died, you know. But because of this pure heart, if I loved you back, you would do something drastic.”

“Like ki--”

The planchette moved quickly around the board. “Don’t say it.”

“Killing myself,” Taemin finished, looking serious. “I would kill myself to be with you.”

“Are you saying what I’m thinking, or what you’d actually do?”

“Both,” Taemin said quietly. “Both. I really would, Kibum.”

“Damn it Taemin, this is exactly why I’ve kept it from you! You can’t!”

“Why not?” Taemin’s voice was firm, almost snapping at Kibum. He’d been using that voice more than ever recently.“You’ve said you love me. So if we love each other why _shouldn’t_ we be together?”

“Because you can’t die, you can’t kill yourself.”

“Why? You did.”

“Have you ever heard the saying do as I say, not as I do? I think that applies here.”

Taemin groaned loudly and flopped down on his back, taking his hands off of the planchette, silencing Kibum for the moment. “You’re terrible, Kibum. I love you. I really, _really_ love you. I was upset to the point that I cried over our incapability of not being able to be together in body, but we could be together in soul. We’re soul mates, don’t you think? Did you feel like this about the other boy? At the very beginning, before he was mean?”

Taemin sat back up quickly, placing his fingers on the planchette. Even then, there was a long pause before Kibum moved it. “No.”

“Then do you think our feeling is stronger?”

“Taemin, please.”

Taemin shook his head. “I love you so much, Kibum. I need you to answer the question.”

“Yes, Taemin. I think the feeling is stronger.”

“Then--” Taemin stopped speaking as the planchette moved, knowing Kibum thought he deserved to talk first.

“I’m not in control of your life, Taemin, I’m just here to make you think. Do you know why I killed myself? My life was complete and utter hell, and was going to be until I died. Ten years has made a lot of difference, I admit, but how accepting do you think people were when I was outed? The rest of my life was doomed, baby. I had nothing to live for, but you do. You’re going to fall out of love with me, and into love with another man, and maybe even by then you’ll have the choice to get married to a man. Wouldn’t that be great? Taemin, you can settle down, have kids, and forget all about me. Your life can be wonderful, you know, you could become the happiest person in the world. Don’t you want that?”

“Not without you.” Taemin offered a shy smile, and he closed his eyes so Kibum wouldn’t interrupt him. “I could be the happiest ghost in the world, with you. I don’t have anything to live for _without_ you, you know. You’ve become my everything. Hey,” Taemin said gently, opening his eyes. “Did they have pop music when you were a kid, or was it just disco?”

“Not funny, Taemin. You need to be serious.”

Taemin just laughed a little, and he shook his head. “I’ll take that as a no. Nowadays, old man, there are these things called boy bands.”

“Be serious!”

Taemin smiled sweetly. “All of their lyrics are about not being able to handle life without their lover, about how they would surely die if they weren’t there. I think that’s a little of what I discovered in the graveyard, laying on your grave like that, I discovered that sentiment I discovered that I’m just going to die without your body with me, but I know that our souls will find each other. You know, if I was smarter, I could probably figure out why this was ironic. They would die without their lover, but I want to die to be with my lover. Is that it?”

“You’re brilliant, Taemin, don’t tell yourself you’re not.”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, reaching up just one hand to tuck hair behind his ear. “I’m going to do it, because if I die, it’s not like I’m really dead, right? You’re still talking to me, you still have a future.” Taemin smiled innocently, looking down at the planchette under his fingers. There was a little chip in this one, the one made of black wood with the white paint, but Kibum had stopped throwing them “Do you see what it says, Kibum? The planchette, not you, but the actual planchette, is talking to me now.” He laughed, tracing a finger over the white letters in a bold, white writing. _Create your own future._ “You’re my future, Kibum.”

When Taemin put four fingers back on the planchette, Kibum spoke immediately. “Wait a week, and see if you change your mind. Flighty decisions of your’s are usually over within four or five days.”

“I’ll wait,” Taemin said with a shrug. “But I won’t change my mind.”

“You will, Taemin, trust me. You always do.”

The next Sunday morning, almost eight days later, Taemin faked a fever to get out of mass. When he was sure his parents had left, Taemin got out of bed and got the rope he bought from the hardware store. With a sigh, he fashioned a simple noose from instructions he found online, and then hung it from his ceiling. He wrote out the note to his parents slowly, almost methodically, before taping it to the outside of his door.

When he finished, he walked back inside of his room, shut the door, and got out the board. “I love you.”

“Have I ever told you you’re a massive idiot?”

Taemin smiled a little, his eyes bright. “Just a few times, yeah.”

“Stop smiling, you’re not supposed to be happy when you kill yourself.”

“You’re also not supposed to fall in love with ghosts, but here I am!” Taemin laughed a little.

“I love you too, Taemin. I realized I love you the day I first appeared in your dreams, and it’s grown every day since. You’ve grown into an amazing person, and while I’m saddened to see that person die, I’m thrilled to spend eternity with his spirit.”

Taemin turned his head down, laughing a little. “I love you, with all my heart. And… I wanted my last words to be profound, but I can’t think of anything more meaningful than saying that I love you one last time.” He smiled, taking his hands off the board, and standing up. “So, Kim Kibum, I love you, and I can’t wait to see you.”

Taemin didn't cry as he stepped up onto the chair, put the noose around his neck, or even when he jumped off. He only struggled for a few moments before he started to sway lifelessly, his human eyes closing for the last time.

Taemin, in his mortal life, never realized he was asleep. The transition from the pure black of the dark room through his closed eyelids to Kibum was merely nonexistent, and because Taemin couldn’t recall a single night where he had not dreamt of the gwisin, the new transition was strange to him. Instead of the black flashing in and then out, the black slowly flooded his vision as he struggled and started to gasp for air.

The darkness was there for much too long, and it worried Taemin. Was he still alive? Had someone found him? Though it was only about a minute of darkness, Taemin felt as if it was longer than anything he had ever experienced. When he felt the falling sensation, he was sure he was alive, and his body had been cut down. However, when the bright light started to come in as the blackness did, spotty at first, and then starting to pour in like water, he wasn’t sure.

It took Taemin a good five minutes to recover, but he stood up slowly, frowning deeply. The bright light pouring in was just from his window, it seemed, and it wasn’t Heaven, or even the light at the end of the tunnel. Was that really what he was expecting?

Taemin turned sadly to see who had cut him down, but instead heard a voice beside him. “Taeminnie, don’t,” it said through sobs, and Taemin turned around quickly.

“K-Kibum,” Taemin said as he looked at the figure in front of him.

“Don’t look at it baby, you don’t need to see something like that.” Kibum reached forward to cup Taemin’s face, and for the first time, it didn’t send a chill through Taemin. Instead, they felt comforting, inviting. Taemin was sure that if his heart was still beating, it would have sped up. “Don’t look at your body,” Kibum repeated gently, smiling at him.

“Are you crying?”

“I’m just a little emotional,” Kibum choked out, shaking his head.

Taemin smiled a little, reaching forward to touch Kibum. When his fingers touched what felt like solid matter, he grinned brightly, and pulled Kibum towards him. “Don’t cry, Bummie.” Taemin laughed a little, and Kibum cried even harder. “You can’t cry yet, we have to go mess with Irene, that medium.”

Kibum laughed a little, and he nodded. “I’d love to,” he said with a smile, shaking his head a little.

“Can I kiss you,” Taemin asked gently.

“I don’t know,” Kibum said, sighing a little. “Don’t you think we’re moving too fast? I’ve only known you for thirteen years,” he said with a hum, before he smiled. “Please, Taemin. Kiss me.”

Taemin reached up hesitantly, cupping Kibum’s face, before leaning in to kiss him. This time, the shock that went through Taemin was not one of pure unpleasantries and ice, but a rather pleasant tingle going through what he could still feel to be as his body, but almost was translucent.

When Taemin pulled away after a few moments, he smiled, and Kibum smiled back. “I love you, you idiot.”

“I love you too.” Taemin smiled, wiping away a few of Kibum’s tears.

**The Note**

_To Mom and Dad,_

_Please don’t go into my room, just call an ambulance and let them take care of my body. I don’t want to upset you any more than I am by doing this, so I don’t want you to see me dead._

_Do Catholics still think that if you commit suicide, you go to hell? I’m sorry if you guys think that I am, and that I broke the fifth Commandment. You shall not kill, right? I’ve forgotten a lot, honestly. I’ve not been paying a lot of attention in mass, and I believe that I’ve fallen from Catholicism. I cannot apologize enough for this. This does confirm for me, however, that I’m not going to Hell. I am going to live a happy life-after-death, and there’s nothing for you to worry about, honestly._

_I can’t tell you why I’m doing this. Just know that I’m doing it out of love, and not hatred for myself, or anyone else. I’m doing this with good intent. I fell in love with a man, the sweetest, most wonderful man, who could not love me back. It sounds sad, but don’t worry! This story, our story, it has a happy ending._

_I don’t remember the date exactly when we met, but I know it was a few days after the cherry trees bloomed last year. That’s when I met him, of course, but he met me much earlier. I suppose it’s not important since we didn’t talk until last year. It’s been over a year now, huh? That’s weird to think about it. When I told him I was going to do this, he started getting upset, trying to talk me out of it, but I had already made up my mind. That was last week, during the really big rain storm. I said something about how it was sad that the flowers always died so soon after they bloomed, and he said: “But they’ll come back next year, you know. The trees know that their flowers are going to fall off, and turn brown, but they still make new flowers each year. They keep going.”_

_But if he can see the flowers come back every year, then I will be able to, too. We can see the cherry blossoms bloom and die for the rest of eternity._

_On my desk, there is an envelope addressed to a Mr. and Mrs. Kim in Daegu. It’s empty, except for a pack of seeds. I want you to write a letter to them and tell them that I killed myself. Tell them that you’re the parents of the little boy who came up to them and gave them the lily. Tell them that their son didn’t hurt, and that he loves them. Tell them that it was me who put the flowers on his grave last year, and make sure to tell them what the seeds are. They’re white lilies, like I put on their son’s grave last year. Tell them, if they didn’t know, that white lilies mean things like sympathy and purity, but it also means things like innocence and the sentiment of how heavenly it is to be with someone. Tell them that I also wanted to send them live flowers, but they would probably die too quickly, and if they plant their own, that means they’ll always be able to see them. Make sure to tell them that I’m sorry for bringing all of this up, but I want them to know._

_Mom, Dad, hyung, I love you, more than you can imagine. But I love him more, and you have to understand that. I love him so much that I’ll do anything for him, and this is just one of those things. I have to apologize though, because while this is perfect for me, I guess it hurts you. I don’t want you to worry about me, no matter what._

_I’m going to be fine. I believe in life after death, you know. Love is eternal, and there’s no way it could give up after our bodies die. After all, most people say that we love with all of our heart, but I loved him with my soul._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to anyone who read and commented, and more thanks than I can give to the person who voted for me.
> 
> I used themes/lyrics from two songs:
> 
> Planetarium, by Valley Lodge- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2q0padgpv-s
> 
> An Ode To You, by SHINee- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gjW4wVzTwjE


End file.
